Urn of Sacred Ashes
by Kayin
Summary: One shot story. POV of Alistair upon reaching the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Please enjoy. Rated M for nudity.


_ One shot story, PC character remains nameless but with characteristics that my PC character has. In the first person POV of Alistair. I do not own Dragon Age or any characters therein. I do own the name Clyde for my dog, but have no copyright to it, so use the name if you like. :p Please enjoy!_

I watch her from behind, her form was a dark shadow compared to the flames that licked in a line before her. The dark line of her pony tail moving back and forth as she surveys the room before her. I take a quick peek myself, a large room made of stone, as all the others were. I can't see much past the light and smoke of the flames. There's something on the other side of the flaming line, but I can't make it out through the waves of heat.

I take a step forward to look over her shoulder at the stone alter that stands before us. I glance down at her profile, taking in the confused and concentrated expression on her face. She's used this face often in the past few rooms. At first it seemed like anger, then confusion. Now I know it to be concentration and focus. Her bottom lip moves slowly back and forth as she chews on it out of habit.

I look behind me to Wynne and Clyde. They are both watching her as well. She has gotten us through a lot in this Gauntlet, and just as I do, they await what she will do next.

What she does next, though, is surprising.

Her staff clanks on the floor loudly, making me jump. I turn to look back to her, she is rising from her half crouched position after lightly dropping her weapon. She begins to unbuckle her belt. I stare in bewilderment. Her belt with her items falls to the floor. She kicks off her boots. She begins to unbutton her robes, and slowly one shoulder at a time slips them from her upper body. I stare at her back as she lets the robes fall to the floor at her feet.

I feel my face getting hot, and it has nothing to do with the flames. I open my mouth to speak, but words fail me. I take a small step back, as she unlatches the back of her undergarments and they too fall to the floor at her feet.

I should have the couth to look away, but my eyes are locked. I have dreamt about seeing her this way, but not in the manner that it is happening. Without looking back she takes a step towards the flames. Panic rises in my chest and I make to grab her before she is burned. Swiftly she turns to look me straight in the eyes with her deep brown orbs. Her hand is on my wrist, halting me from reaching farther to touch her. Without breaking eye contact she slowly shakes her head.

I close my mouth to swallow hard. My brows knit together and I tilt my head to signal my confusion. A small smile graces her lips; the first I've seen of it since we entered the Gauntlet. She releases my wrist and with the same hand, points to the alter where engraved around the rim are the words:

_Cast off the trappings of worldly life and cloak yourself in the goodness of spirit. King and slave; lord and beggar; be born again in the Maker's light._

I look back up to see her already halfway through the line of flames. My heart hammers in my chest waiting for her screams of pain. None reach my ears. Her form disappears behind the heat and the light. My breath stops as I comprehend the meaning of the words on the alter.

I glance behind me to also see Wynne disrobing. I look away and down at Clyde, who is even licking the war paint, carefully painted on by his endearing owner, from his fur. Looks like they understood what the alter meant as well. In the back of my mind I'm laughing thinking to myself that the mabari war dog is smarter than I am. I look back at the flames and set my jaw in determination. I begin to unclasp the strap that holds my sword and shield to my back. Once all three of us are undressed we walk slowly towards the fire. It feels hot to the skin, but does not burn, almost like stepping into a warm bath, you can feel it surround you, but it's not hot enough to scald you. The light from the flames is very bright, I have to squint my eyes to protect them from the intensity.

Once we make it through the flames I'm shocked by the darkness on the other side. The light behind us dies away, but the heat still lingers so we do not freeze in the snowy mountains while we remain unclothed. It takes a moment for my eyes to readjust to the absence of the light, and I look before me, searching for her figure.

I see her, she is standing a ways before us, the Guardian is standing next to her. She is nodding as he is speaking to her, I watch her pony tail bob when the light before her catches my eyes.

My heart feels like it has stopped. Despite the lingering heat from the fire an icy chill runs through my blood.

By the Maker… The legends were true.

My breath comes slow and ragged.

The Urn of Sacred Ashes… The remains of the Prophetess Andraste herself…

I can feel the weight of my sins crush down upon me. This is truly a holy place.

Movement catches my eye, and I look back to her as she slowly steps up onto the platform holding the monument of the Urns resting place. The light coming from the window high up near the roof top of the temple shines down on her and the Urn, making her brown hair glisten and the Urn shine with its golden splendor. Carefully she grasps the top of the Urn and lifts it up, setting it off to the right. She reaches inside and grabs a pinch of the holy ashes and sprinkles them into a velvet pouch.

In the back of my mind it occurs to me to wonder where she got the pouch. But I put the notion aside for now.

She puts the lid back onto the Urn, then turns back to look at us. Fleetingly she makes eye contact with each of us, then she steps down from the stone platform. She hugs the velvet bag of ashes tightly to her chest as she walks toward us, the soft curves of her body swaying as she takes each step. The blood rushes from my face, and I watch her in a cold sweat. She stops a few feet before me, I see her head tilt to the side, but my eyes are locked on the velvet pouch of ashes tucked close to her heart.

"Alistair…" she says softly. My eyes drift up to hers at the sound of my name. I see a smile playing in her eyes. "Stop looking at my breasts and let's go save your uncle."

The blood rushes back to my face so quickly that I see stars.

Maker… Save me from this woman.


End file.
